


The Magic Word

by WhatTheBodyGraspsNot



Category: Actor RPF
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time Blow Jobs, M/M, Smut, super duper barely there dom/sub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-12 22:58:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2127630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatTheBodyGraspsNot/pseuds/WhatTheBodyGraspsNot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short dialogue prompt fill for: "You forgot to say the magic word."</p>
<p>The first time Chris says it, it’s a joke. The second time he says it, it’s still kind of a joke, but now there’s that little edge of purpose behind it. The third time he says it, he knows exactly what he's doing.</p>
<p>“What’s the magic word?”  </p>
<p>Sebastian’s eyes flicker up to his and he immediately says, “Please.” Like it’s something expected of him and he’s just following orders like a…</p>
<p><em>Like a good boy</em>, Chris thinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Magic Word

The first time Chris says it, it’s a joke. 

Because Sebastian is halfway through an ice cream cone and he’s got rocky-road sweetness dripping down his wrist and his face. And Chris is just kind of watching him go to it with a smirk before Seb seems to really understand how in desperate need of a napkin he is.

"C’n I have one?" he mumbles through a mouthful, pointing to the stack piled neatly over by Chris, who has already finished and elected to watch Sebastian demolish the ice cream cone with vigor.

And it’s a funny scene, his costar’s face painted with the stickiness of chocolate as he waits patiently for the napkin. Chris thinks he might be interested in watching for just a second longer. “What’s the magic word?”  

It’s a joke. A teasing sort of thing. But Sebastian’s eyes flicker up to his and he immediately says, “Please.” Like it’s something expected of him and he’s just following orders like a…

_Like a good boy_ , Chris thinks, and suddenly he’s not really thinking about the ice cream anymore as he drops a napkin into Sebastian’s waiting hand.

—- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —-

The second time he says it, it’s still kind of a joke, but now there’s that little edge of purpose behind it. 

"Hey could you pass me that remote?"

"What’s the magic word?"

"Please," and then, "Thank you," when Chris hands it to him.

And yeah. That’s…that’s something.

—- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- 

The best thing about Sebastian’s trailer is that he’s got the couch positioned so it’s facing away from the door, instead pointing towards the window that he probably stares out of when filming for the day has wrapped and he’s freshly showered and got a cup of coffee perched in his hand as he sits.

Whatever the reason is, it really works out for Chris, because he can usually get the trailer door open without making a sound and creep up on Sebastian, startling him from behind and pulling a truly surprised yelp from him. Even though it’s not exactly an isolated incident. (He does it more than he probably should.)

This time, Chris gets that door open and chooses to lurk silently behind Sebastian before pouncing, snatching Seb’s phone out of his hand and earning another one of those startled yelps that never cease to amuse him.

He doesn’t even care about the phone. Not really. What he cares about is:

"Chris!" 

Sebastian comes at him, barreling forward from his spot on the couch and right into Chris’s space.

But Chris just switches hands, clutching the phone and reaching his arms up as Sebastian lurches forward again, nearly clambering up Chris’s body in the process. And if playing keep-away makes him feel like he’s a giddy 17 year old again, so be it.

"I was doing important shit!" Sebastian snaps, but it’s through the most radiant smile Chris thinks he’s ever seen, so it loses its edge.

"Yeah, like what?" Chris smirks, but then Sebastian’s chest is pressing firmly up against his and one hand is coming to rest on his shoulder as Sebastian attempts to use the added support to his advantage.

It doesn’t work. It just succeeds in him pressing in so closely that Chris can’t think anymore, like someone hit him over the head with all of these feelings all of the sudden.

Except they’re not really feelings… They’re more like…

Sebastian’s movements slow, clearly picking up on the way Chris has stopped moving against him all together. Then his eyes slowly flick up to Chris’s, wide and vulnerable and with something like silent expectation.

Chris steadily lowers his arm, not ever once looking away, and then Sebastian says, so slowly that Chris can feel every word rub against his skin: “Can I have my phone…?” 

And it’s the deliberate lack of pleasantries that has Chris’s heartbeat quickening as he stares down at Sebastian—feels the warmth of his body pressing against his, the hesitant hand on his shoulder…

"You forgot to say the magic word…" Chris breathes out, noticing that spark ignite in those pale blue eyes—something he’s never seen before but definitely wants to see again.

And Sebastian is staring up at him, not once blinking and chest now beginning to rise and fall a bit quicker and it’s all so tempting that Chris has no choice—can’t physically stop himself from pushing forward and closing that little distance remaining between them. 

But it doesn’t seem like an issue, because when his lips crash against Sebastian’s, he realizes that Seb had been meeting him halfway, and now he has no idea how to react besides to keep pushing forward, Sebastian’s phone clattering to the ground as he grabs Seb by the shoulders and walks them backwards until they fall back against the couch. 

Sebastian takes the impact better than expected, given how roughly Chris sort of topples down on top of him. It’s just a soft little groan and then he’s back, reaching up and running his hands through Chris’s hair like he might need something to anchor himself on. Like this is all moving so fast and they’re so close and desperate that he might not even realize that it’s real.

Chris’s hands slide downward—over tight muscles and waistlines and then over the bulge so obvious in Seb’s sweatpants—so beautiful—that he keeps it there, palms him through the soft material, shows Sebastian that  _yes_. This is real.

Sebastian’s mouth drops open, hips canting forward as Chris swallows the moans right from his lips.

"Ohh…" one finally slips past, and Chris decides at that moment that he needs to hear them like he needs air—the breathy, high-pitched moans that fall from Seb’s mouth so beautifully. "Can—…ohh…"

The air in the trailer has turned stifled and heated, and something in Chris’s gut twists when he hears Sebastian speak. 

"Can…?" Sebastian’s eyes squeeze shut, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip as he lifts his hips and rocks against Chris’s hand.

"What?" Chris breathes out, a pulsing fire in his veins, "What do you want?"

Sebastian doesn’t even open his eyes—just bites his lip, dragging it through his teeth before: “Can you…”

It takes every fiber of Chris’s being not to pitch forward and cover Sebastian’s mouth with his own, because if he’s not going to  _say_  it— “Can I what? Tell me what you want.”

His voice is tinged with a roughness that Sebastian must immediately hear, because then he’s opening his eyes to glance down at Chris, declaration escaping on the tails of a hitched breath. “Can you—I want your mouth on me—please. Please Chris.” 

And  _oh_ , if that isn’t  _just_  what Chris needs to hear to finally grab at the waistline of Sebastian’s pants and pull—down until they’re pooled at his ankles and he’s leaning forward again to take as much of Seb into his mouth as possible because  _yes_ , he can definitely do that.

Sebastian ignites beneath him, one hand slamming down to grip the edge of the couch, the other still tangled helplessly in Chris’s hair. Chris doesn’t even entertain the idea of covering up those breathy little moans anymore, instead letting them fuel his every movement—every lick, every pull, every swallow.

He palms at his own cock for a moment before thinking  _fuck it_  and reaching into his pants and pulling himself out and it’s not romantic, it’s not pretty, but that’s not what this is.

This is: “Fuck…please don’t stop—please don’t—…”

And: “Chris…”

And: “…oh God, please…”

And Chris is pretty goddamn certain at this point that he’d do anything Seb wants if he keeps saying please like that—keeps being so good for him—

"Fu—…oh fuck, Chris I’m—" Sebastian’s face is so fucking red and twisted in the best kind of pleasure that Chris feels that warmth pooling quickly in his gut, threatening to spill over but—

"What’s the magic word?" 

And Sebastian loses it, voice wrecked and pitched high in a whine as he squeezes his eyes shut, “Please. Please please please please—”

Chris quickens his speed, bobbing his head and swirling his tongue against the head of Sebastian’s dick and then—

"Fuck—," Sebastian’s body is rolling off the couch, wave after wave of pleasure barreling through him and all Chris does is sit there, slowing his rhythm and swallowing and never once letting his eyes tear away from that truly fucking gorgeous look on Seb’s face as Chris finally loses it, spilling into his hand and maybe a little onto the couch, but they’ll worry about that later.

Because right now Sebastian is finally opening his eyes. Finally glancing back down at Chris, regarding him like he’s some sort of god or something.

The windows in the tiny trailer have steamed over, no doubt painting an interesting picture for any midnight-strollers. 

And then Sebastian says: “Jesus…” like he’s still trying to get air back in his lungs but he’s not very concerned about it. Like maybe he’d considered this before but had no reason to believe it would actually happen. 

The contented grin that sneaks across Chris’s face is not intentional, but welcomed just the same. He has so many things to say. So many questions he needs answered, both about himself and Sebastian. But for now, he doesn’t press—just tucks himself back in his pants and stands, brushing a kiss against Sebastian’s lips that he hopes is still okay, given the fact that they’re not swept up in the throes of passion anymore.

Sebastian doesn’t seem to mind. Not one bit.

But Chris’s hand is still sticky, and they’ll deal with the possibly cleanup for the couch later. “Do you have a towel or something?”

And  _oh_ , the way that mischievous smirk dances across Seb’s lips makes Chris think maybe they’re not going to be done for a while. ”What’s the magic word?”

**Author's Note:**

> For some reason, this wasn't posting in the Evanstan tag on tumblr...but yeah, here it is. 
> 
> Please feel free to leave a comment if the spirit moves you!  
> You can also find me (by the same name) and come say hi on Tumblr. I like to make new friends and would love to hear what you think :)


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